Distress
by ForTheLoveOfSalazar
Summary: Juggling work at My Alibi and online classes for med school is going to be the least of Angela Stirling's problems once she has a run in with the dark knight and one of Gotham's most dangerous rogues. Scarecrow/OC.
1. Chapter 1

"Sweetheart, can you pass me that eyeliner?"

"Sure. So, like I was saying, these customers have no damn respect. I'm a server. Not a showgirl." There was a heated stare coming from her co-worker through the vanity mirror. Angela inwardly cursed herself for her mistake, "Sorry, Steph. I didn't mean nothin' by it. I just mean that I wish they would keep their grubby hands off of me. That's not the job I signed up for."

"Mmhmm," Stephanie hummed, unconvinced by Angela's apology. "Listen Angie, you should of thought of that before you signed up for a job at My Alibi. If you didn't want the customers touching you then you should have applied for a job at the bank. Where they keep you locked up in a glass box all day."

Angela pursed her lips at the thought. "You've gotta be kidding me. I don't know if you remember but this is Gotham we live in. Working at a bank is suicide."

Working at My Alibi was bad, but working at the bank was insane. A heist occurred nearly every week, and in Gotham being held at gunpoint was the least of someone's worries. There's no way she would work at a bank. At least they got a small amount of respect at My Alibi. It was pretty much known not to start a fight there. Though it would be bad luck to say there never was a fight or heist, because the moment you said it, there was bound to be one.

Visitors consisted of the occasional thug or mobster here and there, and even big names like Harvey Dent and Roman Sionis could bee seen with a lovely lady on their lap. Customers knew better than to cause any permanent damage to the club. A place like this was for relaxation, and everyone knew better than to destroy a place that more than a few of Gotham's criminals saw as a good place to get a drink and have a little fun.

Stephanie put the finishing touches to her makeup and stood from her chair, giving Angela a hardened look. "That's what I'm saying. At least you've got a job where you're more likely to get groped than to get your head blown off." She brushed past Angela and headed to the stage entrance. "Count your blessings, Kiddo." She called over her shoulder from the doorway.

Angela sighed and looked into the dusty vanity mirror as she brushed her hair back. She looked tired. There were a few bags under her brown eyes and her short black hair was a bit greasier than she would have liked. Having a late night job and taking online classes was taking a toll on her. She straightened her vest and grabbed her serving tray as she headed out to the showroom.

The night was just starting and the customers had just begun to trickle in. A few of the show girls had started slow, rhythmic dances on their small stages but they wouldn't be doing anything spectacular until later in the night. Angela took the orders of a group that had come in together. One of them took a keen interest in her fish net stockings. She had an exasperated look on her face as she headed to the bartender, Don, to fill orders.

"Why the long face?" Don asked as Angela set the order sheet down on the counter.

"I can just tell it's gonna be a long night." She said looking over her shoulder to the table she was serving.

"Who do I need to beat up in the back alley?" Don joked as he wiped down the bar.

Angela laughed, "No one yet, but I get the feeling it won't be long before I need to be rescued." She said posing like a damsel in distress and batting her lashes at him.

Don chuckled and started filling out her orders. "Nah, you've got this, Med School. I think you're a whole lot tougher than you think you are. You can handle those guys. No manhandling from me necessary." He winked as he set the drinks down on her serving tray.

"Thanks, Donnie." Angela smiled as she took her tray and headed back to the table.

Throughout the night the stares continued, as was to be expected when working at a club like My Alibi and while wearing a uniform like the one she was required to wear. High heels and fishnet stockings drew more attention to her legs than she cared for, and her leotard and vest provided little coverage to her upper body. The most aggravating part of the job was the nick names the customers would give her. "Sweet Cheeks", "Honey Bun", "Sugar Lips". No matter what nick name they decided to give her, she hated it. It put her teeth on edge and made it difficult to provide service with a smile.

She was by no means the most attractive girl working in the club and she found it difficult to understand why she caught the attention of multiple thugs a night. A large part of her mind assumed it was because they saw her as more attainable. She honestly couldn't complain about her job though. Stephanie had a point. She had to learn how to deal with the unwanted attentions of the customers.

Now was a perfect time to decide how to cope as one of Cobblepot's lesser thugs slapped her ass as she left to go fill his order. She slowly turned back around, a sweet smile on her face. Don watched curiously from the bar, eager to see how she would handle the situation. The man at the table smiled back drunkenly, "Somethin' wrong, sweet cheeks? You forget my order already?"

"Oh that's hilarious!" She giggled, swatting his shoulder a bit harder than he had been expecting. Angela grabbed his hand and smiled flirtatiously as she leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "Touch me again and I'll be sure to cut this hand off." She told him in a sickeningly sweet tone as she dug her nails into his palm.

His eyes went wide at first and then he began to wince as he noticed the pain she was causing to his hand. He pulled out of her grip. "Alright, you crazy bitch. I'll back off."

"Glad we had this little talk, sweet cheeks." She turned on her heel and headed towards the bar.

Don had a smile on his face as she walked over, her posture radiating the pride she felt after her encounter. "Wow, what did you tell him? The poor guy looked mortified."

"I told him I would cut his hand off."

Don swelled with pride. Little Med School was growing up so fast. He set a glass on the counter and smiled. "I think that calls for a shot."

Angela smiled and downed the drink before giving Don a high five and finishing up her last few tables for the night. As the customers began to dwindle the music stopped and chairs were turned over onto clean tabletops. She had two tables left before Don told her to head home, saying that he would finish her last few tables for her.

By the end of the night she was exhausted and her feet were aching from the heels she wore. She was dreading the walk home as she headed into the dressing room and put black jeans on over her fishnets. She would have to be insane to walk to her apartment in the Narrows at this time of night wearing what My Alibi considered a uniform. Though to be honest there were crazies out there wearing much worse. She grabbed her coat, taser in pocket, and headed out into the chilly Gotham air.

**AN: So this is my first fanfic and I'm really curious and excited to know what people think. Future chapters are likely to be longer. I just wanted to know what people thought first. Comments, faves, follows. Any of those would make my day. Any critiques are welcome too.**

**Angela, Stephanie, and Don are my characters. Any others belong to DC.**


	2. Chapter 2

Walking down Gotham streets at 4 a.m. never was Angela's favorite part of the day. One had to be weary of not only muggers, but drunk drivers, and even the occasional notorious criminal or henchmen of notorious criminals. Sure she had taken a few self defense classes, but she hadn't exactly learned enough to classify her hands as weapons. So she kept her hands in her pockets, wrapped around her taser in case there was ever a need to use it.

Her everyday life consisted of pretty much the same thing. She would spend a majority of the day on her laptop, studying and handing in her assignments through email to her online professors and work nights at My Alibi. She couldn't afford to go to an actual university to study, so taking online classes was her only choice if she wanted to become a doctor.

It hadn't always been the career she saw herself pursuing. Before all of this she had been studying at Gotham University to become an engineer, but after her father died the money stopped coming in and she had no one else to help her pay off tuition. They weren't rich by any means, but her father was an orderly at Arkham and that landed them in middle class range, at least. After his death Angela decided that she would pay homage to her father by becoming a medical student.

Things were difficult for her now, even though her classes were much cheaper than they were before. She had to resort to finding an apartment in the Narrows, where crime ran rampant. She was able to afford her first months rent, a few self defense classes, and a fairly modest security system before her inheritance ran out.

It was a bad habit she had, but as Angela walked down the street she allowed her mind to wander. She was thinking of how she was going to be able to afford her water bill this moth and questioned whether she would be able to handle existing another week solely on ramen noodles and toast.

She was a block away from her apartment when she heard scuffling in an abandoned apartment building she was approaching. She kept her nose down and refused to look in the direction of whatever was going on, as was customary in this part of town. She did her best to mind her own business but doing so became difficult when someone was thrown out of a second story window and into the alley she needed to take in order to get home. She stopped dead in her tracks. The shock of what she was seeing was taking her brain a moment to process.

In the cluttered alley, the man that had been thrown through the window made a feeble attempt to get up off the ground. The attempt was stopped short when another figure dropped down into the alley and picked him up. Angela couldn't believe her eyes. The Batman himself was standing right in front of her and was about to bring an end to one of Gotham's rogues, but oddly enough, something didn't seem right.

He threw the man he was holding up against the wall and began beating him with relentless force. The man against the wall was wheezing through the mask he wore over his face. That was when something in Angela snapped to attention. People in Gotham saw Batman as their savior, but what she saw in front of her was a menace. He was a bully that the other bullies were afraid of, and apparently with good reason.

She had no idea what had gotten into her but she ran towards the Batman and started slamming her fists onto his back, "Let him go! Stop it, you're going to kill him!" she knew she was going completely unnoticed when the Bat slammed his fist into the man's rib cage another time. There was a horrifying cracking noise as his fist landed again.

Angela reached into her pocket and dreaded what she was prepared to do next. She waited for an opening and pressed her taser into Batman's side. He wailed in pain before pulling his elbow back and slamming it into her shoulder. Angela yelped as she fell to the floor, but her momentary distraction had given the other man the chance to stick Batman with a needle filled with a golden-yellow substance.

Batman fell and began screaming, a look of horror on his face, giving Angela the chance to run over to the other man and wrap her arm around him as he fell back onto the brick wall of the alleyway. He was Wheezing harder now barely able to breathe as she helped him stumble out onto the next street. Luckily her apartment was right up the street.

"Come on. We can make it. It's not far." She told him as it began to drizzle. He was relying heavily on her in order to move and was on the verge of passing out. Luckily for her he was extremely thin, making it easy to still move quickly despite his injuries.

They were in front of her apartment building now and as soon as they made it into the entryway he collapsed and mumbled what sounded like "Stupid girl," before passing out completely.

Angela huffed and sat on the ground of her complex's entryway. She leaned her cheek against one of the letterboxes embedded into the wall and let the cool metal calm her down as she caught her breath. "Shit. What have I done?" she said, burying her face in her hands. The rain outside had made her hair and face slick and she was desperate to get into her apartment.

She looked in front of her and groaned. What was she going to do with this guy? Could she leave him here out in the hall and hope that he would find his own way to safety? That was doubtful. He was out cold and it was more likely that some sicko in her building would get to him first. Dragging him into the elevator was going to be a bitch.

Angela stood and removed the heels she was still wearing from work, "You better not wake up and go all crazy on me," she mumbled as she hooked her arms under his from behind and lifted him. She was grateful he was so thin because it made dragging him towards the elevator doors a little easier, but he was still heavier than her and it was still more difficult than she cared to admit.

She was finally able to get him in and press the button leading to the fourth floor. She dragged him into her small apartment and disabled her home security before pulling him up onto the couch.

Unfortunately her work didn't end there. She threw her jacket and work vest onto her coat hanger and headed straight into the bathroom to find her medical supply kit.

Before getting started she made sure to discretely, but thoroughly, pat him down to check for any weapons. She found three vials of whatever he had used to stun Batman and a razor blade hidden in one of his sleeves. She hid his things, not wanting to go through any psychological or physical damage once he woke up.

She then removed the burlap mask that covered his face and was slightly surprised at how defined his cheekbones were, though that could have just been a consequence of his malnourishment. She wiped the dirt and sweat from his face with a damp cloth and was sure to be gentle around the bruise that was already forming on his brow. She then cut open the shirt that covered his chest and prepared to clean and bind his wounds.

It was time for her to put all that medical knowledge to good use.

**AN: And that's chapter two! I'm sure you can all guess which one of Gotham's rogues Angela has run into.**

**This chapter is still pretty short but I was just so excited and thankful for all the people who reviewed, followed, and faved. Which, of course, would be appreciated if I got some love for this chapter too. Let me know what you all think of Angela. I want to be sure I'm writing a believable character.**

**And of course, all other characters besides Angela belong to DC.**


	3. Chapter 3

"Alfred, are you there?"

"Yes, of course. Everything alright, Master Wayne?" Alfred spoke back through their communications system.

The Dark Knight groaned and picked himself up off the floor. He had no idea how he had ended up back in the abandoned apartment building, but he climbed out the broken window and onto the nearest rooftop. Flecks of morning light had just started to make their way over the horizon.

"I'm alright, Alfred. I just had a little run in with a new strain of fear toxin. I'm sending you a blood sample so we can generate an antidote."

The rain from earlier continued to fall as the caped crusader waited for Alfred to receive the sample.

"Sir, there's nothing here. Your blood is clean."

"That's impossible. I was only hit with the fear toxin two hours ago."

"I'm sorry sir, but it's true. There are no trace amounts of whatever Dr. Crane has given you this time. Were you at least able to apprehend him?"

"He got away," There was an aggravated tone to his voice that didn't go unnoticed. "Someone intervened; it's a good thing too. I almost lost it today, Alfred. It took a taser to snap me out of it." There was guilt and regret in Bruce's voice. Things for him hadn't been the same since Arkham City. He was mourning his losses.

Alfred truly felt bad for him, but there was still a dangerous criminal on the loose and they could leave no stone unturned. "Who attacked you?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't get a good look at them. I think it was a woman, though. She must have dragged him off somewhere."

"May I suggest setting up a crime scene then?"

Batman turned the detective vision on in his cowl and looked down into the alley for any clues. "It's no use. The rain has washed away any trace of where they might have gone. I'm heading back to the Batcave. No reason to lingering here any longer."

"Very well, Master Bruce."

**000**

Angela woke up late in the afternoon after having passed out from complete exhaustion. She had spent several hours stitching and bandaging the wounds of her unexpected guest. The last thing she was sure to do was tie one of his wrists to a leg of her coffee table with some cloth she ripped from his shirt. It wouldn't keep him in place if he were to wake up, but she hoped it would at least give her a bit of warning and time to defend herself should anything happen. To be quite honest, it was more to give her peace of mind than anything else.

It wasn't likely that he would be waking up anytime soon with all the pain medication she had given him. Even if he were to wake up it was going to be nearly impossible for him to move with all the injuries he had received.

All these factors granted Angela enough reasons to reel down from her adrenaline rush and get some much needed sleep. When she got up she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and rustled her tangled hair. She grabbed her towel before heading to the bathroom. As she stepped out into the main room she looked to the couch.

"Shit," She grumbled as she continued her way into the bathroom. "Why couldn't it have been a dream?"

She set the water to a steamy temperature before undressing and getting in. she allowed the water to wash over her hair and rested her head against the cool tiles. The hints of a head ache had already started to creep up the back of her neck and her day had barely just started.

She took her time freshening up for the day. She had a lot to think about, after all. For starters, what was she going to do about this guy passed out on her couch while she worked her shift at My Alibi. There was no way she was going to be able to call out. Grocery shopping day was coming up and she wasn't going to force herself to eat leftovers and bread for the next few days. Not again.

She stepped out of the bathroom and headed to her room to get dressed and study before she had to get ready for her shift. Usually she would sit on her couch because the space in the living room helped her focus. That option wasn't really available to her at the moment, and so her mind kept wandering and she was hardly able to retain any of the information she had spent hours reading.

Thought the day her guest had not stirred even once. She went into the main room several times to check that he was still breathing. At around 8 p.m. she changed into her uniform and headed into the main room. She nudged the thin man on her couch several times and even prodded the purpling bruise on the left side of his face; just to be sure he wouldn't wake. Satisfied that she had drugged him up enough to keep him knocked out until her shift was over, she headed out the door and made her way to the club.

Her only reassurance was that she had nothing of significant value in her apartment besides her laptop and she had taken his weapons with her to work just in case.

Angela was actually happy to be back at work. It gave her a sense of normality that she would have usually sought out in her apartment. Today she was working a short shift – 8:30 to 12 a.m. – which she was grateful for. She didn't want to leave some stranger in her house alone for longer than she needed to.

As soon as the doors opened at 9 the customers were lined up outside and ready to have a good time. Business was booming as it always was on a Saturday night and that meant lots of tables and lots of tips. Despite hating the customers that came in, Angela loved working Saturday nights. The show girls always had spectacular numbers throughout the night and there was even a live band that would come in sometimes. The atmosphere was buzzing and the music was rhythmic, she couldn't help swaying her hips as she stood at the bar and waited for Don to fill her orders.

"Better watch out, Med School. All that swaying is gonna get you some unwanted attention if you don't cool it." Don chuckled as he looked over her shoulder to a group that was indeed enjoying the view. "Or maybe it'll just get you a nice tip."

Angela looked over her shoulder to give the offending group a glare. Her stern look hardly did anything to deter them but most of them turned their attention back to the girls on the main stage. Angela huffed and turned back to Don. "Whatever, I want to enjoy the music tonight, let them stare. As long as they keep their hands off I'm happy."

"Had a rough time since I last saw you or something?" He asked as he set her drinks on the serving tray.

"You have no idea." She headed towards her table and worked on trying to stay calm before having to head home. She had a fairly good night, only having to put one or two customers back in their place. Most of them were too busy paying attention to the show girls to give the servers any of their attentions, though she was still able to catch enough attention to bring a huge tip home tonight.

She bussed her last few tables and headed into the dressing room to change into her jeans and clock out for the night. As she was pulling her jeans over her tights she looked over to where Stephanie was fixing her makeup for her next number. Hanging out of a props box near Steph was a pair of fuzzy black cuffs.

A light bulb went off in Angela's head and she walked over to Stephanie's makeup table and grabbed the cuffs out of the box. "Are you gonna need these tonight?"

Steph paused to look at what Angela was holding and gave the woman a sly grin. "Got plans for a special someone tonight, Angie?"

Angela tried her best not to cringe. How exactly was she going to explain this one. If she said yes, she was bound to come off as a sex crazed maniac. If she said no, well that would just look suspicious. "Yes," she said a completely blank look on her face.

Stephanie was shocked into silence for a moment before her smile came back. "Well alright then, Med School. Go get 'um," She said as she reached into her vanity drawer to pass her the keys. "Give him a few spanks for me," Steph gave Angela a wink as she handed her the key.

"Yeah, whatever," Angela turned and stuffed the set into her coat pocket and headed out for the night.

As she walked she did her usual ritual of stuffing her hands in her pockets and keeping her hand wrapped around her taser. "Please let this be a normal walk home," she sighed as she rounded the first corner toward her house.

By the time she made it to her building her heart was pounding. She was extremely nervous about what she might find in her apartment. Would he be awake? Was he going to be a threat? What if the Batman had already found out where she lived and was waiting to take her into the G.C.P.D. the moment she stepped into her apartment?

"Alright," She sighed as she approached her door. She turned her key in the lock and let the door swing open before looking in from the hall. She learned a long time ago how to check corners before stepping fully into a room where there might be a threat. She took a cautious step into the room and leaned forward to check the couch.

She gave a sigh of relief and walked in to disable her security system. Her guest was still passed out on the couch. For a brief moment she wondered if she might have overdosed him on pain killers but was relieved when she got closer and could hear his wheezing breaths. She quietly hung up her coat and pulled the cuffs out of her coat pocket.

Angela prodded the man on the couch, just to be cautious. He didn't stir at all so she moved to put the cuff around his wrist and around the leg of her coffee table. He wouldn't be able to get free without breaking the leg off the table since there was a beam intersecting between each of the legs. Admittedly, it still wasn't the best form of security- and visions of this stranger staking her with her coffee table leg while she slept passed through her mind- but it would have to do for now.

Satisfied that she would be safe for now, she headed into the bathroom to shower and change into pajamas for the night. As she was reheating some leftovers she heard a rustling and then a low coughing.

"Crap." She had a lot of explaining to do.

**AN: Okay. So this chapter was tough to write because I'm really trying not to rush into things. I want the flow to be natural. Also, sorry for leaving off on a bit of a cliff-hanger.**

**Other than that I just really want to say thank you for the reviews! The advice I got was extremely helpful. As far as chapters go I honestly have no clue how many I want to write, but I am very dedicated to my story and I know where I want to take it. It's going to be fairly lengthy if I can help it.**

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and as always, reviews are much appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan Crane was used to waking up from an unconscious state after going head to head with the Bat. What he wasn't used to was waking up in this amount of pain or in a location that wasn't the asylum. He honestly didn't care where he was at the moment. All he knew was that it was warm and that it wasn't Arkham, and that's all that mattered.

He was disoriented and there was a sharp pain in his chest. He began coughing and realized that his right arm was restrained. He couldn't see well but he heard footsteps coming from a nearby room as he made an attempt to ease his coughs.

Angela came in quickly from the kitchen and grabbed a pair of glasses off her single bookshelf as she headed towards the couch. She had found the glasses hidden away in one of his pockets when she had checked him for weapons the day before.

"Shh, it's alright," she said as she tried to hand him his glasses. "Try not to move too much, you've been severely injured. Just breathe."

Jonathan reached out for his glasses and eased his coughing into low wheezing breaths. "Who are you?" He asked through his gasping breaths.

"It's alright. You're safe here. I swear I'm not gonna hurt you." Angela put up her hands to show that she meant no harm. She was a bit startled by the intensity of his cold blue eyes and the sternness of his voice. Angela was falling into a bit of a panic. She wasn't prepared for him to wake up so suddenly.

"I don't believe that's what I asked you." He had managed to sound menacing despite the fact that he was loudly pulling air back into his lungs.

"My name is Angela." She kept her hands up. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel threatened. She had no clue who he was or what he was capable of. She wasn't taking any risks with this guy- or any more risks than she had already taken.

"Why did you bring me here? Why did you help me?"

Angela dropped her defensive stance and her brow creased. "Don't you remember? He was going to kill you."

"But why did you help?"

"I wasn't prepared to watch someone die. Especially not at the hands of Gotham's 'Greatest Hero,'" she said matter-of-factly.

He was silenced by her honesty.

"Okay," She said as she crossed her arms over her chest, "I think it's my turn to ask a few questions. Which one of them are you?"

He was still a bit out of it and gave her a quizzical look, as if to say 'What are you talking about?'

"Which high profile criminal are you? I don't keep up with the news enough to know and I've never seen your face in the papers. I know you're one of the important ones, considering that fancy mask of yours and the damage you did to the Bat."

Realization of the situation finally hit him full force and Jonathan's eyes widened. "My things, where are they?" He tugged on his restraint and came to the shocked realization that the thing restraining his arm was a fuzzy handcuff. He attempted to sit up but was promptly stopped by the pain that shot into his sides.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You've got a cracked rib and several lacerations that I had to stitch up. And you didn't answer my question."

He sat back and huffed "You can call me Doctor Crane."

"Well that's not exactly the answer to the question I asked, but _Doctor Crane_, I think we both know you're not going anywhere anytime soon with those injuries of yours," she said as she headed into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

He heard a few beeps and then what sounded like the low hum of a microwave. She stepped back into the kitchen doorway and raised a brow, waiting for his answer. "It's mac 'n' cheese leftovers. It should be soft enough for you to eat in your condition."

This was ridiculous, he thought. He should be continuing his research and plotting his revenge against the Batman. Instead he was practically being held hostage in some strange girl's tiny apartment and was about to be force fed. The only thing he could really think right now was how relieved he was to not be in Arkham.

"I don't want to be here. I have more important things to do right now, and this is degrading," He said gesturing to the fuzzy, black hand cuff around his wrist.

"I don't want you here either, but you can hardly move and I really don't want to be arrested for harboring a criminal, so calling the cops is out of the question. As far as I'm concerned, you and I are on the same page right now. And as far as the hand cuff is concerned, it's the best I could do for now. I was planning on buying zip ties tomorrow." She pursed her lips in thought, "Unless you can honestly tell me you're not a threat." He stayed silent. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

The microwave beeped and she headed back into the kitchen. Despite his lack of answer she decided to serve the food into two bowls. She was about to grab a fork out of the drawer but thought better of it and gabbed a spoon for him. She poured each of them a glass of water and went back into the living room.

"Here," she reached out to pass him the food and he was very much aware of how much space she was leaving between them. She was being cautious, smart.

"That's quite the bedside manner you have there, Doctor. I guess you've never dealt with a patient who couldn't feed himself?" He raised his cuffed hand and waved it around a bit, "I can hardly feed myself with one hand, especially if I can't sit upright." If he couldn't continue his research back in his lab, the least he could do was perform a bit of research while he was stuck here.

He may have startled her for a moment, but she wasn't impressed by his deductions. He must have been observing everything in the room while she was in the kitchen and her medical text books weren't very difficult to spot. "That's a nice trick there Sherlock, but I'm not a doctor. Not yet anyway," She said as she stepped over the coffee table and sat on the end closest to him. She was very obviously uncomfortable with being so close to him but she wasn't about to let him starve to death either; he already looked like a skeleton. "Thirsty?" She held up the glass of water.

"Yes, of course."

She brought the glass up to his mouth and he didn't protest to drinking the whole thing at once. He was sure to keep eye contact with her the whole time, elevating her level of discomfort. She had to make an effort not to cringe under his icy stare. "Keep it up and I'll think twice about switching you to the zip ties," she said evenly. "Do you need more water?"

His reply was mockingly innocent, "I have no idea what you mean, and no. That should be enough for now."

He took a moment to take in her appearance. She had black hair that was brushed back and still wet from a recent shower, brown eyes, and a fairly average frame and height. Her most noticeable feature was her thin waist and the swell of her hips. She was wearing a black tank top and light blue cotton shorts that showed off the smooth tanned skin of her thighs; fairly immodest clothing to be wearing around a stranger and potentially dangerous criminal.

"Stop," she said sternly as she noticed his eyes roaming over her.

"Well, Angela, you didn't want me looking you in the eyes. I'm not quite sure what you want me to do here."

"Stop looking at me." She took a spoon full of the food and put it up to his mouth. He chewed slowly and cringed a bit at the slight pain of the food going down. "I'll get you something softer to eat tomorrow, this is literally all I have right now."

"I'm not making you uncomfortable am I?" He continued to look her intently in the eyes. The sarcasm in his voice wasn't lost on her.

"I would appreciate it if we didn't talk anymore until I learn a bit more about you."

"Oh, but you live in the Narrows. You should know exactly who I am." It had only been a few years since he had caused mass hysteria in the Narrows and he was fairly certain anyone living there at the time would remember the name Doctor Jonathan Crane.

She remained silent and put another spoonful up to his mouth. She knew better than to reveal anything else about herself. He was manipulative and intelligent, which made him very dangerous, even without knowing exactly who he was.

He finished his meal in silence, knowing that he wasn't going to get anything else out of her. The moment he was done she rose and deposited his dish into the sink. Angela grabbed her food and drink and headed straight to her room. She didn't miss the icy stare that followed her every step and the cool voice that echoed in her mind as she closed her door.

"Goodnight, Angela."

She promptly locked the door behind her and let out a relieved breath as she sat on her bed. She ate her now cold leftovers as she thought about what the hell she had just gotten herself into.

**AN: And yet another chapter because I have no responsibilities right now and can hardly sleep lately! A part of me wonders if I should hold off on publishing right after I'm done, but the other part says "Whatever, might as well post it".**

**Hope you're all enjoying it so far and keep those reviews coming! It's what fuels me to keep writing and they've all been very helpful. Let me know if I'm keeping Jonathan in character so far.**


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Angela woke feeling groggy. She hadn't slept well the night before – she was constantly tossing and turning and whenever she would fall into sleep she would be startled awake with a vision of piercing blue eyes.

She stretched and took a moment to grab her laptop from under her bed and settled back onto her sheets. She opened a search engine and typed in "Dr. Crane." The first article that came up was from the G.C.P.D. public website.

It read: "Dr. Jonathan Crane. Alias: Scarecrow. Very dangerous. If seen, call authorities immediately. Do not approach." Then at the bottom of the article, in red print was the word "Deceased."

The next web page she pulled up was an article from Gotham Times. The title read: "Scarecrow Defeated by Killer Croc!? Could The Master of Fear still be at large!?" Angela read through the article and saw that her guest was presumed dead on the day that the Arkham Riots had occurred. The same day her father had died.

The article then went on to confirm that Doctor Crane was "ripped to shreds by Waylon Jones – better known as Killer Croc," and that Gothamites could rest easy knowing that this menace had been put to rest.

Angela grimaced knowing that the article had been written to simply put the readers at ease; unless of course the man currently on her couch was actually an apparition. She highly doubted that though. Despite how skeletal he looked.

She went back to the search engine and typed in "Jonathan Crane, Narrows." The articles she found were horrifying. "Scarecrow Causes Mass Hysteria." "Scarecrow Terrorizes the Poor." And finally, "Scarecrow Brought to Justice by The Batman." She smiled a bit at that last one.

She scrolled to the bottom of the search engine and found an old web page from Gotham City Court of Law. Within the page there was a photo of a young man wearing a suit and tie. He had high cheek bones and icy blue eyes that shone behind his round glasses. Angela would have found him attractive if she didn't know exactly who he was. Beneath the photo was a caption that read: "Dr. Crane sends yet another suspected criminal to Arkham for psych evaluation."

Angela stood from her bed and brought her laptop into the living room. As she expected, Doctor Crane was already awake and fully aware. He watched Angela intently as she approached him with her laptop in hand. She stopped short of the coffee table and turned the screen toward him.

"Is that you?" She asked showing him the picture she had just found. It was not lost on him that it was an old article and they had used what was probably the only flattering picture of him in existence.

Jonathan smirked, "Oh, Angela, if you wanted to get to know me better all you had to do was ask. I would _very much_ enjoy getting to know you better. We could talk about our lives and ambitions, _our fears_." There was a bittersweet tone to his voice.

He was trying to press her buttons. Well two could play that game. She turned the laptop back toward herself and looked at the photo for a moment. "What a shame," She said wistfully. Jonathan raised a questioning brow. "You used to be a pretty good looking guy, Doctor Crane." She shrugged and closed her laptop. "Guess that's all behind you, along with your medical career."

His smirk fell and he bristled a bit at her comment, fixing her with his cold gaze. Angela smiled back at him and headed into her room to change. When she came out of the room she headed to the kitchen and grabbed the pain medication that Doctor Crane more than likely needed by now. She put a few into her hand and filled a glass of water.

When she came back into the main room she held out the hand of pills and the glass of water, gesturing for him to take it. He looked at the pills she had passed him and frowned. "This medication will put me out for hours."

"That's kind of the idea. I need to make a run to the grocery store and - despite your condition - I really don't want to come home to any surprises."

Jonathan's frown deepened before he popped the pills into his mouth and reached out for the glass of water. Angela took the glass back to the kitchen and then went to go grab her coat. "I should only be out an hour or so. Try not to go anywhere."

He mumbled what was probably meant to be a snarky reply but the medication was already taking effect. Angela smiled and headed out of the building towards the grocery store.

While there, she picked up fresh bandages, food, and a package of zip ties. At first she had contemplated getting the neon, multi-colored pack – just to spite him – but then thought better of it and got a pack of all black zip ties.

As she roamed the store her mind wandered as it usually would. She had a difficult few days ahead of her. The most difficult part about all of this was finding out what to do with Doctor Crane when she started work again on Wednesday. She was glad she had a few days to think about it. She also had to be sure to manage her money right on this trip if she wanted to be able to eat next week.

After getting a few things at the grocery store she headed to a small clothing shop. She hated to waste money on a stranger, but she really didn't want him lying in those dirty rags on her couch. She bought a package of white cotton T-shirts, 3 pairs of sweat pants, a pack of socks, and a pack of boxer shorts. She prayed that everything would fit him alright.

After paying the cashier she looked into her wallet to count the remains of her cash. She had a grand total of fourteen dollars left. "So much for trying to manage my money." She grumbled as she put her wallet back into her pocket and headed back home.

As she was putting the groceries away she heard Doctor Crane groan as he woke up. She stepped out of the kitchen to let him know she had come back. "You woke up fast."

"I have to use the bathroom," he said, his voice still laced with sleep.

Angela smirked. "I can set up a catheter for you, Doctor Crane."

He was still a bit foggy from the medication but he had his wits enough to glare at her. "Take this thing off of me and help me to the bathroom," he grumbled as he gestured to the cuff attaching him to the coffee table.

Angela sighed and walked into her room to grab the key to the hand cuffs. "You're pretty bossy for someone who's still all drugged up," she said as she uncuffed him.

He flexed his now free arm and tried to stretch the soreness out of it. Jonathan was used to being tied into straight jackets and strapped to medical tables, but he could never get used to the soreness that followed after staying in one position for so long.

"Okay," Angela said, "I'm gonna help you try to sit up now."

Jonathan nodded his head as he prepared himself for the pain. Angela grabbed his shoulders as he made a slow attempt to sit up. He wanted to cry out at the pain it caused him but he tried to keep his resolve. Just as he was almost fully upright a pain shot out in his side and he hissed.

Angela took a look at his bandages as he was sitting up and told him that she would have to replace them soon. She then put his arm over her shoulder and instructed him to not put too much weight on his left foot; his ankle was swollen and she suspected he had sprained it when being thrown out the window.

She guided him to the bathroom and allowed him some privacy. He wouldn't have much trouble maneuvering around her tiny bathroom in his state, especially since he still had the pain medication in his system at the moment.

While he was finishing up, Angela went into her room and grabbed a spare pillow to set on the couch for him. Once he was finished, Angela paused him from trying to move back into the main room and handed him the bag of clothing she had just bought for him. "You'll need to bathe later but the least we can do now is get you into some clean clothes. Do you need my help?"

He was already humiliated by having to rely on her to get to the bathroom. The last thing Jonathan wanted to do right now was appear more weak and defenseless than he already had. He shook his head 'no' to her question and shut the bathroom door again.

He was glad she had such a tiny apartment, it made finding things to lean on for support much easier. As he changed he took some time to think about what he was going to do about his current situation. He was too weak to fight her at the moment. He could try threatening her but he doubted that was going to help him in any way.

Jonathan looked around the tiny bathroom as he was changing; trying to find anything he might be able to use to get out of the zip ties he would later be switched to. Or maybe a weapon he might be able to use later. He found nothing and sighed as he opened the bathroom door again to let her know he was done.

Angela took note that the clothes had fit him just fine and smiled to herself. He had forgone the shirt and she assumed it was probably too painful for him to stretch his arms over his head to put it on at the moment. She walked over to him and let him put his arm over her shoulder.

He noted that she was the perfect height for him to lean on in his condition. She was shorter than him but not short enough to make him have to bend to meet her. She was probably about five or six inches shorter than him. "You're so short. You make a perfect crutch," he said with a smirk on his face.

She paused to glare at him and then continued walking. "Keep it up and you'll be sleeping in the bathtub." Once they reached the couch she told him, "Lay on your right side with the pillow under your underarm. It'll help you breathe better if you lay on the side with the broken rib."

He gave her a quizzical look but reluctantly did as he was told and found that she was right - though he wasn't exactly prepared to admit that. He sort of wished he had that information when previously dealing with fractured ribs after being tossed back into Arkham by the Bat.

Jonathan felt a wave of exhaustion pass over him as he settled back onto the couch. He had overexerted himself during his little trip and the pain medication he took earlier was keeping him in a lethargic state. He quickly fell into a deep sleep.

**AN: Yaaaay! Chapter 5! So someone asked which variation of Jonathan I'm trying to portray and for those that are interested, it's kind of an amalgamation of all of them. But I'm mostly following the story of Arkham Asylum Crane and I'll be expanding upon the hints of him that are in Arkham City. But just remember that right now we're only seeing the Jonathan Crane side of him, Scarecrow hasn't really come into play yet.**

**Anyway, as always, a super big thank you to those of you that reviewed! You guys are what keeps me inspired to keep updating this so quickly. So keep it up and let me know what you think of this chapter! Maybe tell me your favorite part?**


	6. Chapter 6

There was a delectable aroma of warm food wafting through the air that woke Jonathan from the deep sleep he had fallen into. He slowly raised his head and looked into the kitchen.

From his position he could see Angela's silhouette standing in front of the kitchen sink. The evening light had just begun fading into a sunset and was soon to leave Gotham in the darkness of night. Angela was washing dishes and lightly swaying her hips as she hummed a tune to herself. He was mesmerized and watching her intently as he tried to figure out what song she was humming, it sounded familiar.

Very suddenly a chill ran up her spine and the dish in her hand clattered into the sink as she froze in place and her spine went rigid. Jonathan watched her curiously as she slowly turned to face him. His eyes never left her as she narrowed her gaze at him.

"I told you to stop doing that." There was a strictness to her voice that somewhat thrilled him. It was a defensive mechanism and a very interesting reaction.

Jonathan raised a brow and mockingly asked, "What do you mean? I've only just woken up and you're already making assumptions of me doing something. I think you're being a bit paranoid, Angela." He said the last bit with a smile.

She frowned knowing that he constantly used her name to put her on edge. It was very obviously working. She liked her own name well enough, but to hear it constantly come out in that chilly voice of his made her want to lock herself in her room. And besides that, she had become more accustomed to being called Med School or Angie… or Sweet Cheeks. Hardly anyone used her given name anymore.

"Whatever," she huffed as she dried her hands on a dish rag and turned further into the kitchen to the point where he couldn't see her through the doorway. "I made soup," she called out.

When she came back into the room she had two bowls in her hands. She set them down on the coffee table and went back into the kitchen to grab their drinks. As she was walking into the room she grabbed something from a nearby shelf as well.

"Hold out your wrists," she told him.

He looked at her questioningly, but did as he was told. The thing she had grabbed from the shelf was a chain link made of zip ties. First she zipped one end to the coffee table leg closest to him. He realized that on the other end were two loops separated by 3 links. The loops were for his hands and the links would allow him to separate his hands enough to move around and lay comfortably, but not enough to give him a wide range of motion.

She put the loops around his wrists and zipped them tightly. He cringed as the plastic bit into his skin.

"Don't be such a baby. They're better than the hand cuffs, aren't they?"

Jonathan rubbed his wrists. "You're not some kind of sexual deviant are you? Because this is a pretty complex chain link you've made just to restrain me."

"No, she answered flatly as she pushed the table closer to him so he would have an easier time reaching his food.

"Your hand cuffs suggest otherwise."

She gave an exasperated sigh as she sat on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table. "They're not mine. I have to bring them back to work on Wednesday."

"Oh really, and where's that?" He asked conversationally as he reached for his bowl. He took notice that she had been sure to only serve him broth but had cooked the soup with vegetables and chicken so that it would still have the flavor. All of the solid foods were in her own soup bowl.

Angela opened her mouth to answer his question but quickly caught herself. She had almost forgotten just who she was talking to. "I'm not going to answer that," was all she said before taking her first few spoonfuls of soup.

He smiled. What a clever girl. Breaking her mind would be a challenge and a privilege, unlike the dense minds that could be easily found at Arkham.

"As a matter of fact," she said, "I need you to answer a few questions."

His smile grew. "How about a game of quid pro quo?"

"I'm pretty sure you told me your name was Doctor Crane, not Doctor Lecter," she said in reference to Hannibal Lecter's game of 'I tell you things, you tell me things' that took place in Silence of the Lambs.

"Is that a yes then?"

Angela thought for a moment before nodding her head 'yes'. She only had a few questions for him anyway. He couldn't really learn too much about her throughout that, could he?

Jonathan waited in anticipation for her first question.

"How did you go insane?"

He rolled his eyes, highly unimpressed that this was the first thing she asked him. "I'm not insane, Angela. I'm simply devoted to my work. If other people see my research of finding a cure to fear as insane then I pity them. They're probably just afraid to live in a world without fear." He thought about what he said and then smirked. "Ironic, isn't it?"

"If you say so. Your turn."

He drank some of his broth before asking, "Why medical school?"

"My father," was her only reply.

Jonathan motioned for her to elaborate. She shook her head, "You never said I had to give an elaborate answer."

He tsked, "Come now, Angela. The game's no fun if you don't play fair."

She sighed in defeat. "My father used to say that the greatest joy in life was helping those in need."

It wasn't the most detailed answer, but he would take it. Besides, it didn't take much for him to see the hidden meaning. Her father was no longer alive. He nodded in acceptance of her answer and as a signal for her to ask the next question.

"Why fear?"

He grinned at her question. "Fear drives everything, Angela. Just imagine a world without fear. Nothing would hold you back. Everyone would be unafraid to do whatever they pleased without fearing the consequences. The world would be absolutely limit-"

She raised her hand for him to stop. He was getting a bit preachy and he was beginning to flail his arms around in grand gestures of excitement. She was afraid he was going to spill his soup all over her couch. "I get it already, just ask the next question."

Jonathan gave her a sour look for cutting him off but continued regardless. "Why follow your father's advice now? You seem like a smart girl, capable of finishing medical school early. Yet at your age you should be mid way through the residency stage. You must have had a different plan for your life."

She didn't know whether to be insulted by him saying she looked older than the average med student in residency, or to be flattered that he had called her smart. She also didn't miss the fact that he had embedded multiple questions for her to answer into that bit of conversation.

The main thing she noticed was that he wanted her to admit to him that her father was dead. She knew he was perceptive and that he had already worked out that bit of information from her last answer. The fact that he wanted her to say it out loud made a chill run down her spine, but she suppressed the shiver that usually accompanied it.

Jonathan watched intently as the cogs in her mind slowly turned. She was thinking out her answer and he wondered if she would give him what he wanted.

She looked at him with determination as she began to answer him. "I wanted to be an engineer. I was actually pretty good at it but-" her voice faltered for a bit and she cleared her throat to try and mask it, "but when my father died, I decided I wanted to pay homage to him by following the career path he had wanted me to take." She looked down into her soup bowl before looking back up to him, the determination back in her eyes. "Are you going to kill me despite the fact that I saved your life?"

Jonathan was a bit taken aback by the strait forward nature of her question. He took a moment to seriously contemplate his answer. "No," he said it with complete sincerity, though he left out the part where he may or may not mentally scar her. At least he wasn't really lying. "Consider it my way of paying you back. You save my life, I spare yours."

"Quid pro quo?"

"Precisely," he said with a quirk of his brow, "and speaking of, it's my turn. Was that the first time you spoke about your father's death?"

Angela's throat began to tighten up against her will. She didn't trust herself to talk so she opted for nodding her head as she pretended to be fascinated with the empty bottom of her soup bowl.

"I need and answer, Angela."

She cleared her throat but her voice was choked as she answered him. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite hear that."

"I said yes," came her intense reply. She was looking up at him now and her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

Jonathan felt his chest tighten, not out of pity or remorse, but out of excitement that she had such a strong reaction.

She quickly stood from her spot and began to collect her dishes and bring them to the kitchen. As she came back and went to reach for his bowl his arm shot out and he grasped her forearm tightly in his thin hand. She gasped and dropped the empty bowl. He pulled her close enough to speak to her in an intimate tone.

"Thank you, Angela. I thoroughly enjoyed our little session today."

Angela roughly pulled her arm out of his grasp and slammed her door as she quickly retreated to her bedroom.

Jonathan smiled to himself. If he weren't in so much pain he would have given himself a pat on the back. Instead, he laid back and hummed a familiar tune until he lulled himself into a very deep and satisfying sleep.

**AN: So I got a few amazing compliments on my last chapter, though I have to say that my favorite was being told Jonathan was an ass. It made me smile because that's how I see him and that's exactly what I'm going for, whilst keeping the elements of his personality from Asylum. I also love those of you who share your love for Angela. That means a lot to me.**

**Also, I do in fact publish my chapters the moment they're written. Meaning none of this is pre written and I simply sit in front of my laptop for 8 hours straight. Sometimes I shower though so it's not like I don't have a life or anything.**

**As a heads up, I might not be able to post tomorrow since I'm staying over my sister's place.**

**Anyway, sorry this AN is so long. Keep those reviews coming and let me know what you thought of this chapter!**

**Ps. For anyone that's interested there is a link on my profile page showing a 3D model of Angela's apartment. It's hardly detailed so that it still leaves something to the imagination.**


	7. Chapter 7

Angela tossed and turned in her bed for hours before finally falling asleep. Her mind was racing with memories of a past that would never be returned to her. There was a creeping darkness that continued to press at the borders of her mind.

As she slept she pulled her blankets closer to herself and shivered. She turned in her bed once again as a discomfort settled over her and she got the unsettling feeling of being watched.

For a while, Angela laid there with her eyes closed tight, too afraid to open them to see what she might find in the darkness of her room. With a small amount of courage she opened her eyes and looked toward the foot of her bed. Standing there was the tall, thin shadow of a man with eyes as fierce and cold as ice.

Angela suddenly gasped and sat up in her bed to find that she had only been dreaming. She was breathing heavily as she stood up and hurried toward her light switch. She stood there for a moment to catch her breath before grabbing her towel and exiting her room.

As she grabbed the handle to the bathroom door she heard a chilling voice come from across the room. "Have a bad dream, Angela? Or was it the boogeyman that woke you?"

She didn't turn to face him. She refused to look into those eyes that had been haunting her. Instead, she rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her before running the hot water.

Angela stood under the steaming water as she wondered where she had gone wrong in her life. What did a person have to do to deserve all of this? She was going through inner turmoil as she thought of her job, her school, her financial dilemma, and now of the man haunting her dreams and her apartment.

She stood there thinking of it all for so long that the water had begun to run cold. So long, that she began to grow tired of hearing her own whining in her head. Then a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

_"Count your blessings, kiddo."_

Angela got out of the shower and wrapped her towel around herself. She couldn't believe that she was going to take the advice of an exotic dancer, but her inner Stephanie was right. She had to take things for what they were, and if life was going to hand her lemons, then you could be damn sure she would make lemonade.

She wiped the fog from the mirror and gave herself a reassuring look. She could take control of this situation. All she had to do was get through this semester of classes, get through working a few more shifts at My Alibi, and then she would be interning at Gotham City Hospital. She wasn't going to let Doctor Crane get to her either.

For a moment the determined look in her eyes faltered, and she knew that if she could see it then he would be able to see it too.

Angela's thoughts were cut short as she heard a wheezing cough come from the living room. She quickly dressed and went out into the main room to see what was going on.

Jonathan was having trouble breathing again. Angela hadn't given him any pain medication recently and the added pain of his bruised lungs and sore cuts were wearing on him. He heard the door to the bathroom swing open and Angela come rushing forward to check on him, but he was losing focus of his surroundings as he made feeble attempts to draw air back into his lungs. There was in intense pain coming from his right side, where his broken rib was. He could hardly breathe and was beginning to black out.

Angela was trying her best to assess the situation but she was going into a panic as she realized that he wasn't listening to her as she told him to try to relax and breathe. She noticed the dazed look in his eyes and realized what was happening right before he passed out.

"Shit, shit, shit," she mumbled as she pulled him onto the floor so he was lying on his back. He wasn't breathing anymore and she noticed that his chest was a bit lopsided. He had a collapsed lung and had been unable to fight through the pain as he tried to take in air.

Without any hesitation she began chest compressions. She pressed on his chest with practiced hands before tilting his head back and checking for any signs of breathing. There was nothing, so she began the procedure for mouth-to-mouth.

She lifted her head after giving two breaths and he still wasn't breathing. She repeated the cycle – 30 chest compressions and two breaths – and still, he wasn't breathing. Angela could hear her own pulse as her blood rushed and hoped she wouldn't have to deal with getting rid of a dead body.

On the third cycle he gave a sputtering cough before wheezing in a few breaths. It took him a moment to realize that he was on the floor now with Angela hunched over him. She rested her forehead lightly against his own with her hands on either side of his head as she gave a sigh of relief and laughed.

"Holy shit, I thought you were going to die. Don't do that ever again, please." She muttered. She was surprised at how panicked she had become at the thought of him dying. Sure he was a complete ass and she was creeped out by him at the best of times, but that didn't change the fact that he was a human being in her care and she couldn't just stand back and watch as he died.

"What happened?" he rasped, still a bit dazed.

Angela sat up and gave him some space. "Your lung collapsed, probably a result of your broken rib. You started coughing and couldn't catch your breath. You stopped breathing and passed out." He was about to speak again but she shushed him. "Don't talk right now. You need to rest. We can't move you back to the couch right now but I'll get you some pain killers and some blankets so you can be comfortable."

Angela rushed out of the room and grabbed a few things. When she came back Jonathan felt her gently put her hand under his head to lift it up and put a pillow under him. She gave him the pain medication and then put a large, warm blanket over him. The last thing he noted before falling asleep was the scent that lingered on the blanket and how it reminded him of her.

It was dawn now and Angela decided she would try to get in some study time before she would inevitably have to come back into the room to take care of him. She took a deep, calming breath before sitting down at her laptop, but the entire time she sat there all she could do was worry about him.

**AN: So this is pretty short compared to other chapters, but I just wanted to get something up today, even though I said I wouldn't be able to. I stayed at my sisters and we watched the new episode of Hannibal! Oh yeah!**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter and don't forget to review! You're all super awesome.**


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, wake up."

"Hmm?"

"Doctor Crane, wake the hell up."

Jonathan felt a light tapping on his cheek as he very slowly awoke. Angela was leaning over him and he had a sense of déjà vu as he caught the scent of warm food in the air. His mouth was dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His vision was blurry and he noticed his glasses had been placed elsewhere.

"What-," he tried to clear his throat to get the words out but everything was dry. It felt like he had swallowed a desert in his sleep.

"Hold on a minute." Angela came back with a glass of water. It helped, but his throat still felt a bit sore.

"What happened?" He finally asked.

"You're lung collapsed and you passed out because you couldn't breathe. I had to give you CPR. I woke you up because you need to eat something. And I changed your bandages but you definitely need a shower."

"What day is it?"

"Tuesday, you've been out for pretty much a day and a half. I just finished cooking, so food and then shower, alright?"

He simply nodded his head, not really wanting to hurt his throat by talking. She helped him to sit up on the floor so his back was resting against the couch. There was pain in his chest while he sat up but it wasn't unbearable. He suspected he could attribute that to all the pain medication.

Angela brought over their food and handed him his glasses as she sat cross legged on the floor near him. They sat in silence for a while as they ate and the warm broth soothed his sore throat. Jonathan felt the fogginess of sleep lift and he began to remember just what exactly had happened to him. He remembered the sudden intense pain he felt in his chest and how he had begun coughing before he ran out of breath and passed out. He also recalled waking up soon after with Angela hunched over him in relief. She had saved his life. Again.

"Thank you," he spoke softly as he looked deep into the bottom of his soup bowl.

Angela snapped out of wherever her mind had been wandering and she looked up at him from her food. "Huh?"

"I said thank you." He finally looked up at her. "If I were in Arkham they wouldn't have realize what had happened until I was rotting in my cell."

Angela sat with her moth agape for a moment. She couldn't believe the sincerity on his face and in his voice as he said it. She finally collected her wits enough to answer him, "umm, don't- don't mention it." It was a bit more of a mutter than she wanted to admit, but hopefully he understood it.

She stood to bring their dishes into the kitchen and then stood in the doorway between the rooms as she looked at him, a pensive look on her face.

"What is it?"

She pursed her lips. "I'm just wondering how we're gonna go about this whole shower thing, while keeping your modesty, that is."

Jonathan shrugged. "It's not like there's much modesty at Arkham so that doesn't really concern me."

Angela felt her cheeks burn for a moment before she took a breath to calm her blush. "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in learning more about you than I need to."

Jonathan openly chuckled at her innocent reaction to the thought of seeing him naked. "I can manage fine on my own, but I'll need help getting there and into the tub."

Angela nodded and came back with a pair of scissors. She cut the zip tie that was attaching him to the table but kept his wrists linked together. She trusted him a bit more now but she wasn't dumb enough to actually give him free range of her apartment. She helped him up and they made their way into the bathroom. Before she helped him into the tub she told him to wait by the door as she went to go get a few things.

When she came back she had a change of clothes, a towel, a toothbrush, and a disposable razor with her. "You're getting some pretty mean stubble there," she explained as she handed him the razor. She helped him remove his bandages and then helped him into the tub as she explained that she would be waiting right outside the door. Angela sat with her laptop as she tried to finish her last assignment for the night.

After a small struggle to get out of his clothes Jonathan stood under the water and enjoyed what was probably the warmest shower he had taken in years. He thoroughly washed his hair and was careful when washing around all his cuts. He brushed his teeth and shaved his face with the practiced precision of never having a mirror to use while in Arkham.

Once he was done washing up he took a moment under the running water to think of just what the hell was going on here. Angela had saved him twice now. The first time she had done it out of fear. She had no idea who he was, but from what she had told him, she was afraid to watch someone die. Had that been the same fear she had this time, or was there something more? Jonathan rested his head against the tiles as he recalled the relief in her voice when he started breathing again. He couldn't understand it.

About half an hour later, Angela heard the water shut off and she went to go put her laptop away. She stood by the door as she waited for him to signal that it was alright for her to come in. He had once again forgone his shirt, knowing that she would have to put new bandages on him, and also because the zip ties made it impossible. They made their way back to the couch and Angela reattached his restraints to the coffee table.

"Can you stay sitting up? I just need to reapply your bandages." Jonathan nodded his head and waited for her to return with bandages and ointment. Once she came back she knelt in front of him and checked the stitches on his chest, abdomen, and shoulder. "These should be healed up pretty soon. Then we can take the stitches out."

She put ointment on any of his wounds that needed it and bandaged the more serious wounds. Not for the first time, Angela took notice of the old puncture scars on his arms, chest, and stomach; all of the scars forming crescents. She lightly ran her finger tips over one of the crescents on his shoulder. "Doctor Crane?"

"Hmm?" He had his eyes shut as her fingers traced slow patterns over the scars on his skin. Usually he would detest anyone touching him, especially in this way, but he found that the touch of her cool fingers on his bruised skin soothed him.

"What are these scars from?" She continued to trace the pattern over his chest as she spoke softly. He seemed to be in a trance and she didn't want to wake him out of it. His usually keen senses seemed to have slowed and she was intrigued by the effect she was having on him.

Angela leaned closer as she heard him murmur softly.

"Swimming in the river

Was a juicy little frog,

Who thought the weeping crocodile

Was just a fallen log"

Angela watched him as his breathing slowed and he seemed to be somewhere else all together. She was surprised by his rhyme, but she understood the meaning. She continued to trace the pattern onto his arm, her other hand resting on his knee. "Your run in with Croc. How did you manage to get out of that one? According to the G.C.P.D. website, they still don't know you're alive."

He didn't answer. Angela slowed her movements until they came to a stop altogether. He was so still, she almost thought he was asleep. She spoke to him quietly so she wouldn't startle him. "Doctor Crane?" He gave no answer and she attempted to call his name again with the same results. She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Jonathan?"

Slowly, his eyes began to open.

"Where were you just now?"

"I'm – not sure." He was still a bit dazed and she was entirely too close – one hand resting on his knee and the other on his arm as she knelt in front of him. He was overwhelmed and it was as if he was in a fog and all he could see was her warm, concerned gaze. Without realizing his own intentions he gently lifted her chin with his finger tips and leaned forward to capture her lips with his own.

Jonathan felt Angela freeze in place as their lips met. Finally, she moved against him for the briefest of moments. And then, she was gone. Jonathan hardly had time to notice the loss of her warmth before he heard her bedroom door slam.

**AN: Oh. Man. The dynamic between these two has shifted big time. oh, and by the way, I have zero medical training. So if you ever find yourself in any of these situations, please don't use this fic as an example of what to do. I just looked stuff up on google.**

**Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and reviews would be greatly appreciated!**


	9. Chapter 9

Jonathan immediately wanted to kick himself once he realized what he had done. It wasn't that he regretted upsetting her. No, what he regretted was his loss of self control and the fact that he couldn't understand why he had done such a thing in the first place. He needed to understand what it was that made him take such an action, and he needed to know why he had been so affected by just a simple touch.

She had barley touched him as she ran her cool fingertips over his skin and he had practically been floating on air. He felt like he had been hypnotized and he wanted to know exactly what was going on here. Why had she brought him here in the first place?

"Angela?" He called trying to catch her attention through the thin walls of her apartment. There was no reply. "Angela!" Still no reply.

Ignoring the sharp pain in his side and the soreness that was still in his ankle he moved as close to her door as his restraints would allow him – which only got him to the furthest wall of the living room.

He knocked firmly on the wall and called out once more, "Angela, I know you can hear me. Come out." He pressed his ear against the wall and heard nothing. Great. With the way she stormed out he expected her to have become overly emotional. He was somewhat disappointed he didn't hear her sobbing or throwing things around in outrage.

She wasn't upset, and she wasn't angry – because if she were in either of those states then he would have made an attempt to threaten her to come out by now. But threatening her wasn't gong to work in this situation. She had gone catatonic and any of his attempts were not going to reach her.

"Damn it," he muttered as he slid down and sat back against the wall. If she had gone catatonic then she was taking this much worse than he expected.

Angela sat in her room, her back against her bedroom door and her knees to her chest as she wrapped her arms around her legs. She stared blankly at the foot of her bed. Somewhere far off she heard someone calling her name, but she just couldn't find it in herself to respond. She was frozen in place as her mind buzzed from thoughts of nothing at all to far too many thoughts at once.

She plucked one of the thoughts from her stream of consciousness as if pulling a raffle ticket from a bowl. The one she had chosen to deal with first would have probably said something like 'What the hell was that!?' She then decided that wasn't the thought she wanted to deal with first. She tried to reach for a more tangible question and got 'Why on earth did you almost kiss him back?' She didn't want to deal with that one either.

Angela's thoughts flurried around her, asking her questions she wasn't prepared to answer. Finally, she decided to return to staring at the foot of her bed as she avoided trying to feel or think anything. She leaned her head back against the door and heard a soft humming.

The rush of thought and void started to clear away and what she first heard as humming was now a soft singing, she couldn't make out the words at first so she turned and pressed her ear against the door. She knew this song. She had been humming it the other day as she washed dishes.

"We all dip our heads in the deep blue sea,

The deep blue sea, the deep blue sea,

We all dip our heads in the deep blue sea,

_On the last day of September_"

Angela couldn't help but sing the last line of the verse aloud. She heard Jonathan stop singing as he heard her join in. She knew she had been caught. He had been trying to catch her attention for nearly half an hour now and had finally managed to reach her.

Angela stood up from her bedroom floor and walked out into the living room. Jonathan was still sitting on the floor with his head tilted back to rest against the wall behind him. He gave her a questioning glace before staring back up at the ceiling.

Angela hesitated before speaking. "My father would sing it sometimes when he came home from work." Jonathan saw her wrap her arms around herself – a coping mechanism, to help comfort herself as she spoke about her father. She took a breath before continuing, "There were actually a few songs he sang, always nursery rhymes. Whenever I asked him about it he would laugh and say that one of the patients would sing them all the time and they would get stuck in his head."

"Who was your father?" Jonathan didn't turn to look at her as he continued the conversation. He knew that looking at her would put her off and he didn't want to do that as she was finally opening up to him.

Angela sighed as she took a seat next to him and joined him in looking up at the ceiling. "His name was Robert Stirling. He was an orderly at Arkham and –"she felt her throat begin to tighten up but she fought through it, "He was working closely with Doctor Young on the Titan project before the Arkham riots. Batman was there, but the Joker got to him first." She bit her lip as she heard her own voice waver. She couldn't trust herself to keep talking.

Jonathan sighed as he looked down at his hands; his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. "I knew him. He would sometimes supervise recreational time or I would see him passing in the halls talking to Doctor Young. Your father was a decent man, Angela. He genuinely believed in the asylum and its ability to heal the insane minds within. That's why he worked with Doctor Young. He believed there was a cure for those sick people. They thought that Titan would make the patients stronger and able to endure more strenuous therapy."

Angela wasn't quite sure how to handle that information, but she nodded her head as thanks for speaking kindly about her father. "Was it you that used to sing in your cell?"

She wasn't going to like the answer but he continued regardless. "I used to have two cell neighbors, one with melophobia and the other with a rare case of metrophobia." Angela looked confused and he gave an exasperated sigh as if she should know these things. "The fear of music and the fear of poems or rhymes, both very irrational. I wanted to try and help them cope with their fears so I took it upon myself to snatch a nursery rhyme book from one of the many libraries in the Arkham mansion. I ran through a trial by singing the rhymes in my cell for a few weeks. They both died of exhaustion on the same day, unable to sleep due to their debilitating fears. It was quite an interesting study on Folie à deux*., and after that the habit just stuck."

Angela sat in horrified silence. All those fond memories of her father coming home and singing happy tunes were a bit spoiled now. She felt sick and decided she needed to change the topic immediately. "Why did you kiss me?" She blurted out. That just made her feel worse, but she needed to know.

"Why were you touching me like that?"

"I don't know. I was just curious about your scars."

"Well, you know what they say about curiosity."

"I'm pretty sure curiosity didn't kiss the cat." Angela mumbled.

"You're right. It killed the cat," he was speaking in that cold detached tone of his before an ominous smile spread across his face. "Maybe I should correct my mistake."

Angela gave a nervous chuckle, "This is getting a bit off topic. You never answered my question about Croc. How did you get away?

"I thought you wanted to talk about-"

"Not just yet," she cut him off. "Just – I don't want to talk about it yet. Just answer the question for now."

The corner of his mouth twitched in irritation, he really hated it when she cut him off like that, but he would humor her for now. "If that helps you cope, then fine, I'll tell you. I was in the sewers under the Asylum. Then, the bat showed up, like he always does. Just as I was about to get away that hideous creature sprang from the water and dragged me down. I shot him up with fear toxin, but as expected, it didn't have much effect on him. Once he realized I was going to put up a fight I guess he decided he didn't have time for me. I was just an appetizer; the Bat was the main course." He of course left out his reason for being in the sewers in the first place – to drop a fairly large batch of fear toxin into the Gotham water supply. "After he mauled me a few times he let me go and in my critical condition I crawled up onto an empty canister of fear toxin and floated out into the Gotham Harbor."

"If Batman saw you the other day then why does it still say deceased on the G.C.P.D. website?"

Jonathan rubbed the bridge of his nose, his patience was wearing thin. "I don't know. There's talk amongst the rogues. They say the Bat hasn't been quite himself lately, ever since the incident with Joker. I'm sure the G.C.P.D. is catching onto it. He probably didn't tell them because he doesn't want them to know he's off his game. Besides, I wasn't causing much of a disturbance."

"What were you doing?"

"Enough. I've played along. Now, you wanted to talk so let's talk."

"Aren't we talking now?" Jonathan glanced down at her to give her an irritated look. She huffed and rolled her eyes in response. "Listen, Doctor Crane, I don't know what you want me to say about all of this. You spent ages locked up in Arkham and you've been hiding away for somewhere close to two years now. So you kissed me. Big deal. I'm probably the closest you've come to a woman in a long time. So, you know, it was nothing personal and we can forget about the whole thing. Okay, glad we cleared that up. See ya."

Angela got up to leave after her rambling mess of a speech but quickly found herself back on the ground as Jonathan snatched her wrist and roughly pulled her back to sit by him. She landed with a small, "Oof." Admittedly, he probably grabbed her more roughly than was necessary, but he kept a hold on her wrist in case she decided to make a run for it again.

"I want you to explain everything that's lead up to this. I know you're hiding something from me."

"What the hell are you talking about? You're the one who kissed me, I didn't do anything. And let go of me!" Angela was struggling to pull her wrist from his grip but he was surprisingly strong for a guy who had recently almost died.

Jonathan's voice was unsettlingly cold as he tightened his grip on her and she winced. "Tell me why you helped me that day in the alley, and why you saved me again the other day."

"Are you trying to ask me if I had some kind of ulterior motive for doing all of that? Do you think I'm working for someone to try to get close to you, or some ridiculously lame conspiracy like that? I'm not. Honestly, I don't know why I did any of it. It was just action and reaction."

Jonathan spoke to her with a discomforting calmness, "Please don't make the mistake of thinking I'm a fool."

"I don't have any reason to lie to you."

"You don't have any reason not to," he countered.

They sat there for a moment, Jonathan searching her eyes for the answers he was looking for. She looked back at him with unrelenting authenticity. She was telling him the truth and she knew he understood that, but still his hold on her wrist would not yield.

He allowed a small glint of twisted amusement to pass over his features as he loomed over her. She attempted to pull her wrist from him but it was once again a failure. There was a brief moment of panic that rose up in her as she realized what was happening. He wasn't going to let her go. Jonathan took a small amount of satisfaction in the fact that he could feel her pulse racing beneath his finger tips.

"Let me go. I'm tired and I have work tomorrow. I just want to go to sleep."

"Tell me, Angela, where is it exactly that you work?"

"None of your damn busin- ah!" Angela yelped as he tightened his grip on her wrist a bit more. He wouldn't tolerate her being rude. He caught her other wrist with his free hand as she reached out to try and pry his hand off her, but he didn't anticipate her next action.

Angela quickly twisted in his hold and kicked out her leg, hitting him squarely in the stomach. He instantly released his hold on her and curled over on his side in pain. She shot up from her spot on the ground and got far enough that he couldn't reach her. She held her sore wrist to her chest and noticed the harsh stain of bruising left on her skin in the shape of his thin fingers.

She didn't wait for him to recover as she spoke, "I want you out of here before I leave tomorrow. If you're strong enough to attack me then you're strong enough to walk and find somewhere else to stay."

She rushed into her room, slamming and locking the door. She was being foolish, letting him stay a minute longer, but she was too afraid to face him right now. She thought of moving her dresser in front of her bedroom door to be sure she would be safe throughout the night as she slept, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how scared she was. She went to bed feeling like a prisoner in her own home, all because she had been a fool that day, to think she could help someone. She should have left him to die.

*******Folie à deux ****is a French psychiatric term meaning a madness shared by two, also known as shared psychosis.**

**AN: So sorry it's been almost a week since I've posted! I might have spoiled you guys a bit by posting every day before this. I was just having some trouble with getting this chapter out. But in other news, it's my longest chapter so far!**

**And for anyone who may have missed it, Robert Stirling, Angela's father, is an actual character from 'Arkham Asylum'. So his part of the story is not made up. I did some serious research on characters before writing this.**

**I also wanted to really thank my reviewers. Every word you guys say means a lot to me. So please, let me know what you thought of this chapter, tell me your favorite or least favorite parts and I'll try to get the next one out as soon as I can.**


	10. Chapter 10

Angela awoke in the late afternoon. She hadn't fallen asleep until five in the morning, due to the fearful thoughts that bombarded her in the night. It didn't help that she'd had the dream again as well, but this time the figure had come much closer. Whoever, or whatever, was approaching her in her dreams was hell bent on not letting her get a good nights sleep.

She sat in her bed for a few minutes, contemplating what her plan of action was going to be. Face her fears and check to see if Doctor Crane was still in her apartment, or let it be for a while?

She decided she would hold off on going into the living room a while longer. She pulled her laptop from under her bed and decided to do a bit of studying until she heard her stomach grumble loudly. She sighed and buried her face in her hands. She needed to eat. The problem was that in order to get to the kitchen she had to cross through the living room.

She huffed and rose from her spot on the bed. Angela took a moment before opening the door to try and steady her breath and prepare herself for whatever surprise may be waiting for her behind that door. She slowly opened the door and peeked around the corner into the living room. To her surprise Jonathan was still in the apartment, and even more surprising, he was fast asleep on the couch.

Angela made her way quietly into the kitchen and tried to be as silent as possible as she made herself a sandwich. As she left the kitchen she almost dropped her food when she saw Jonathan sitting upright on the couch.

"You're not as quiet as you seem to think you are."

Angela chose to take a bite of her sandwich and ignore him as she headed back to her room.

"You didn't make me anything?" he called to her as she was about to close her door.

She stopped midway, turned, and walked back out into the living room. "Are you kidding me? Do you seriously think I would make you something to eat after what happened last night? And last I checked, I told you to get the hell out of here."

"Actually, you said you wanted me out of here before you left for work. You're not leaving for work yet, are you? And besides," he held up his bound wrists, "I'm stuck here until you set me free." He said the last bit with a look of feigned innocence.

She bit her lip in frustration. "I'm not an idiot, Doctor Crane. I know you can easily get out of those, they were just a precaution. You could have been long gone by now, so why are you still here?"

"I thought it might be rude to leave unannounced." She couldn't tell if it was a lie or if he legitimately meant it.

Angela stood there for a moment, trying to search his eyes for the truth, but as usual, he gave away nothing. She marveled at how robotic and calculated his actions could be at times; every movement and word chosen solely for the purpose of keeping her on her toes. He gave a boyish smile when he noticed her trying to figure him out. She frowned in response.

Angela grabbed the remote to her tiny living room TV and tossed it to him. "Keep yourself occupied for now and I'll let you out as I'm leaving. I've got a paper to write today so don't bother me."

"I think it might be better if you gave me a book," he said as he set the remote down on the coffee table.

Angela let out a frustrated breath and walked over to her small bookshelf. "Which one?"

"One from the bottom shelf. Doesn't matter which."

Angela arched a brow, "One of my text books, seriously?"

He simply nodded and she picked one at random and set it on the coffee table. Without another word she retreated back into her room to finish her sandwich and start her paper. She spent hours flipping between her notes and switching between internet tabs trying to think of the best way to go about the topic of her research paper. By the time she had completed and sent it in she checked the time to see that it was nearly seven-o-clock.

"Crap," She mumbled as she slapped her laptop closed and scrambled off her bed. She grabbed her work clothes before running past Jonathan in the living room and into the bathroom.

Jonathan had been completely immersed in the medical textbook before he heard Angela's scrambling movements as she exited her room. As she was passing through the living room he took note of the clothes she was carrying in her arms. Slung over her arm was what looked to be a pair of black jeans, a leotard, and a pair of bunched up tights. As she shut the door he tilted his head in thought; he was still curious about where she worked.

Once Angela reemerged from the bathroom, she was showered, fully dressed, and was even wearing a bit of makeup. "Alright, let's go, I'm running late." She tossed him one of the t-shirts she had bought for him and walked over to cut open the zip ties that were restraining him. She paused for a moment before snipping through the plastic ties and looked up to search his eyes.

"I won't hurt you, Angela." He sounded sincere enough, but she wasn't entirely convinced.

"It's a bit late for me to take your word on that, Doctor Crane," She retorted as she held up her wrist to show the bracelet of purple bruises she wore.

"I suppose you're right," he chuckled, "but at least I've already promised not to kill you. It's the best I've offered anyone before, so count yourself lucky"

She shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't believe she was about to do this, but she cut the zip ties restraining his wrists none the less. All she really wanted was to be rid of him once and for all. She offered her hand to help him up off the couch but instead of grabbing her hand he grabbed her bruised wrist to help himself up. She winced, but as she looked down she noticed the thin line of bruising around his wrists that the zip ties had left.

Jonathan chuckled as he released her. "Charming," He said.

"What is?"

"They're like friendship bracelets," he said as he held his bruised wrist close to hers.

"I'm not your friend."

"Oh, now you've gone and bruised my ego as well."

Angela shook her head and walked over to her coat rack as Jonathan slipped the t-shirt she gave him over his head. He noticed her slip on her work vest and saw that it had a name tag on it. He saw a small logo on the tag but was unable to read it before she slipped her coat on over her vest and buttoned up.

"Let's get out of here," She murmured as she stepped into her high heels.

Angela had opened the door no more than a few inches before the knob slipped from her grip and the door slammed shut. She looked over her shoulder to see the thin arm connected to the spidery hand that had pushed the door out of her grip. Her reflexes were quick as she reached into her coat pocket for her taser, but Jonathan was much quicker.

As she moved to press the taser into his side he grabbed her wrist and slammed it into the door above her head. There was the sharp sound of electric current as her thumb was still on the button that triggered the weapon. He wrestled the weapon from her grip and dropped it into the back pocket of his sweatpants. She attempted to fend him off with her free hand but he was quick to bring it up against the door to join the other. He held both her wrists in place with just one of his slender hands.

Angela shook with fear as she looked up into Doctor Crane's eyes. His pupils were blown wide, and his usually icy blue eyes had gone a stormy gray. Though his eyes indicated a sense of adrenaline or excitement, his face remained calm as ever. He reached down and deftly began to undo the buttons of her coat with one hand. She wanted to scream and fight out of his grip, but those eyes had shocked her into silence.

"Relax, Angela. I'm just taking a look at your name tag." He noticed she was still tense and he could feel her pulse racing under his hold, but she looked considerably less frightened once she realized that his plans were considerably less nefarious from what she initially thought he might do.

He pushed her coat aside and took a closer look at the small name tag on her vest. Angela watched him closely; afraid to make a sound as he narrowed his gaze on her tag.

Jonathan looked to the small pink logo that read 'My Alibi'. "That's what I thought it said," he murmured. As he looked back to her he realized she was beginning to regain her composure.

"What the fu-"

He clamped his free hand over her mouth and gave a sardonic smile. "It's my turn to interrupt. If you have something to say, keep it low. No screaming. Understand?"

She mumbled something under his hand and, though it was near incomprehensible, he still understood what she said. "No, you're not going to be late to work," he replied. "You're not going into work today, because after today there won't be any work for you to go to."

There was another mumble from under his hand. He was enjoying the fire visibly lighting behind her eyes as she became increasingly infuriated by his actions to keep her quiet. His smile grew as he asked, "I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't quite understand you that time."

Angela's brow scrunched as she glared at him and her face reddened.

"I'll answer your questions in a moment, Angela. But I want you to go sit on the couch and _don't scream_ when I move my hand away. I trust you know what will happen if you try anything?"

Angela took a moment to think of what she could possibly do to keep herself from becoming prisoner in her own home. She didn't know what would happen if she didn't participate in his plans, and she didn't want to find out. She knew he was much stronger than her, even though he should still be healing from his injuries. He was far more skilled at fighting and defending himself and though she hated to admit it, he was smarter than her as well. Begrudgingly, Angela nodded her head in agreement to his plan.

"Good," he said as he leveled his gaze at her before releasing the hold on her wrists and over her mouth. He grabbed her by the elbow and pushed her towards the couch. She sat down as Jonathan grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and happily plopped down on the couch next to her.

"Why won't you let me go?"

He flipped through the channels until he landed on Gotham City News. He stretched his lanky limbs to get comfortable on the couch before turning to her; seemingly happy to answer her question. "Because an associate of mine has just delivered a lovely supply of top hats to the show girls at My Alibi," he said with a wicked smile, "and you and I are going to sit here and enjoy the show."

**AN: Shame on me. It's been another entire week since I've updated.**

**Anyway, not much to mention in the authors notes this chapter because I'm exhausted and need to get some sleep. But eeyyyy, more rogues on the way!**

**Now this is the part where I beg for reviews.**


	11. Chapter 11

"How did you know this was going to happen?"

"Because I orchestrated it months ago. It's just a funny little coincidence that you happened to work at the place I wanted to target."

"I don't find it that funny." Angela stared wide eyed at the television. The camera panned past a large group of police officers standing behind their patrol vehicles and pointing their weapons towards the front entrance of My Alibi. The image on the screen finally came to rest on a woman holding a microphone and standing before police lines.

"Good evening Gotham. Summer Gleeson here with breaking news just outside of the well known gentleman's Club, My Alibi. No more than an hour ago the G.C.P.D. received a chilling emergency call from this location."

Angela leaned forward in her seat as the image on the screen switched from the red headed reporter to a 911 distress call. White subtitles appeared over a photo of a sound recorder.

"**911, what's your emergency?**"

"I'm at My Alibi. There- There's something wrong with the girls. They've gone insane, every one of them. Please, _please_ send help."

"**Sir, please just stay calm. We're sending officers to your location. Are you safe?**"

"I think so. I'm hiding in one of the storage closets. The girls, they were shooting up the place, attacking the customers. They've never done anything like this, I don't understand."

"**Just stay quiet, sir. The officers will be there any minute now.**"

"I- I think I hear something."

Angela raised her hand to cover her mouth in abject horror. She recognized that voice. It was the bartender, Don. His voice was trembling; she had never thought anything was capable of frightening him that much. There was the sound of shuffling and then a soft knocking could be heard over the recording.

"_Hellooo? March Hare, who are you talking to? Is Alice in there with you?_" There was a third voice in the recording. Don stayed quiet as the closet door creaked open.

"_Ah there you are, March Hare. I see Alice isn't in here, but what's this?_"

"No. No please, don't-"

There was a sickening crack and suddenly Don was quiet. Angela began to tear up, fearful of what might have happened to her co-worker. Jonathan sat close to her, his arm over the back of the couch. He looked relaxed as ever, delighted, even. She knew he was watching her closely, gauging her reaction.

The recording continued and there was a low rustling before the third voice became clearer on the line.

"_Hello, is this Alice?_"

"**Uh, no. Sir, just tell us what you want. No one has to get hurt.**"

"_Oh, I just want Alice! But in the meantime, you might want to send the Bat. He's going to be late for tea!_"

There was a sound of the phone clattering to the ground and the man could be heard giggling and singing 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat' before the call ended. The screen returned to a very disturbed looking Summer Gleeson standing by a uniformed officer. "Now I'm here with Officer Williams in the hopes that he might be able to provide some insight on the situation. Officer, who do you think is behind this?"

"We think this is the act of super criminal Jervis Tetch, better known as the Mad Hatter. We suspect he's got close to thirty hostages in there so this is a very delicate situation we're dealing with."

"What do you plan to do to stop him?"

"Ah, well, we saw Batman go in there just a few minutes ago, so hopefully things are going to clear up soon."

"Thank you, Officer," said Summer, looking unimpressed. "Well, Gotham, you heard it here, live. More on this as the event unfolds." The broadcast then cut to a commercial break.

Angela was trembling in her seat and she felt dizzy. "I have to- I can't watch this," she said as she stood from her spot on the couch and began to move toward her room.

"Oh no you don't," Jonathan said as he pulled her back to the couch. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. "You're not going anywhere, dear. I want you to watch this. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"That's rich, coming from you."

Jonathan chuckled and brought his face close to her ear to whisper intimately to her. "Well if you're afraid, Angela, I can always help you to face that fear," His eyes brightened at the thought and it looked as if an idea had just struck him. "How about a bit of therapy? You tell me your _greatest fears_, and I can help you to overcome them."

"I don't want to do this. You don't have to do this," She said as she drew back and turned away, trying to cause some distance between them.

He grabbed her chin with delicate fingers and pulled her back to face him; their faces just inches apart. "I'm only trying to help you, Angela," He murmured,"I want to enlighten you, so you can see the world through my eyes. Unafraid. You won't have a job once this is over; the Mad Hatter will make sure of that. Work for me and I can teach you how to master your fear." He couldn't resist himself as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers.

Angela's breath caught in her throat as he brushed her hair back with his thin fingers and caressed the side of her face. His eyelids fluttered shut and she thought back to the night before and how he had entered that trance-like state from just a simple touch. Her eyes flicked to his back pocket as she remembered he held her taser there. If only she could distract him long enough to get to it…

She slowly reached up to caress the side of his face and was slightly surprised when he actually leaned into her touch. He leaned forward to burry his face in her neck and she shivered as his breath danced over her skin. She steadied her breathing and was sure to keep contact in order to keep him distracted.

"Doctor Crane?" she whispered as she gently ran her fingers over his arm.

"Doctor Crane isn't here right now, but if you'd like to make an appointment…" he said, his lips gently brushing her neck as he spoke. His breathing had slowed, just as it did when she traced his scars.

Angela cautiously leaned forward, feeling that now was her chance. Just as her fingertips brushed the taser sticking out from his pocket she felt him smile into her neck. Her blood ran cold.

"Nice try, clever girl, but you'll have to do better than that to distract me." He leaned away from her with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I'm not as easily manipulated as you think. Now pay attention," he said gesturing to the news broadcast that had just returned from commercial break, "It's about to get very interesting."

On the screen, Summer Gleeson was standing before police lines. "We're back here outside of My Alibi and as far as we know super criminal, Mad Hatter, has taken several showgirls and patrons of the club hostage. According the G.C.P.D., Batman is inside the club right now in an attempt to-"As Summer was reporting people began to run out through the entrance of the club. Some rushed out and made clear attempts to avoid the officers while others ran screaming in terror towards them for safety.

"I knew he would save them," Angela smiled.

"Like he saved your father?" Jonathan shot back spitefully. "Watch closely, the shows not over yet."

Angela's jaw clenched as she turned her attention back to the screen. Summer had pulled one of the escaped hostages to the side and Angela realized that it was Stephanie. Her usually perfect hair was mused and her mascara had gone runny.

"Miss," said the reporter, "Could you please tell us just what exactly is going on inside the club?"

"Oh it was horrible," cried Stephanie. "We were getting ready for our big show when suddenly it was like we were being mind controlled. That man, the things he made us do…" she covered her mouth as she broke off into a horrified cry. Jonathan rolled his eyes at her dramatic display.

Summer patted her shoulder sympathetically but continued to question her. "What did he make you do? How did you escape?"

"It was the hats, they were controlling us. We went into a back closet where guns were hidden and we threatened the customers. I- I punched a guy! I would never do something like that. And then that man with the top hat came in and started calling us all Alice; said he wanted us to join him for tea. And that's when Batman came in," she said in a dreamy tone.

Jonathan noticed Angela watching the background closely to see who was coming out of the building. He took in how nervous she looked until two men exited the building together. One man looked to be a bouncer for the club and was helping the second man down the front steps of the club. The second man had a trickle of blood falling over his forehead. Paramedics quickly rushed towards the pair to help.

Angela visibly relaxed, nearly letting out a sigh of relief. Jonathan narrowed his gaze at the men and was sure to memorize the face of the man who had been wounded. He suspected that to be who she was so concerned about.

Summer Gleeson continued questioning the showgirl, "And what did Batman do?"

"I'm not sure. As soon as he came in the hats were deactivated and we made a run for-" Before Stephanie could finish talking a loud explosion was heard and two figures were expelled through the front entrance of the club. A large gust of fire and debris fallowed the pair as they were tossed out into the street. The fire trailed behind them and spilled out onto the street to fallow a path of gasoline that had gone unnoticed.

A dark form with scalloped wings landed gracefully on the pavement whilst the other tumbled and skidded to a halt. The camera zoomed into the figures that were backlit by the burning fire. Batman slowly rose from his spot on the pavement and approached the man who had tumbled onto the ground. The man previously wearing a large top hat, presumably the Mad Hatter, was rolling around and cackling as the fire spilled out onto the street. Thankfully, the police lines were further back than how far the fire had reached.

"What's this about Hatter?" Batman demanded as he hoisted the man up by his shirtfront.

"He's back!" he gasped and giggled. "He's back, he's back, he's back!"

"Who's back?" shouted Batman as he lifted the smaller man higher off the ground.

The Hatter paused in his laughter to stare seriously at the Bat, "The Master of Fear," He said, pointing to the low flames on the street.

The news broadcast changed camera angles to an arial view of the street to show the fire that had fallowed the trail of gasoline. The flames had blazed into a shape like a horrific face cut out of a jack-o-lantern.

On the couch Angela turned curiously to her captor. He looked delighted as he pointed towards the screen and excitedly told her, "That's my emblem."

As the broadcast switched back to the street view, Summer Gleeson could be seen quickly approaching Batman as he handed the Mad Hatter off to the police.

"Batman," she shouted trying to get his attention, "Batman, could you please tell us what this all means? Has the Scarecrow really come back from the dead?"

"No Comment," Was all he said as he walked past her; firing his grappling gun and being lifted away into the night sky.

The reporter gave an exasperated sigh as she turned back to the camera. "Well, Gotham, you saw it here first on GCN. Back to you in the studio, Tom."

The television clicked off before the camera switched over to the news room. Jonathan turned and smiled at Angela. "I think that went quite well, don't you?"

She glared back at him. "Did you seriously do all of this just to let Gotham know you were still alive? I lost my job because of this. _A lot of people_ have lost their jobs because of this."

"No, of course that's not the only reason. This was just a distraction. It's like I said, the Bat's been off his game for quite some time now. No one's going to catch onto what's really happened until tomorrow morning, and by then it won't matter anymore."

"What do you mean? A distraction for what?"

"I think that's enough questions for tonight," He said as he stood from the couch, "but my offer still stands from earlier, Angela. Work for me, and I'll cure you of all that fear you've got built up. Work for me, and you won't have to worry about working at run down places like My Alibi." He turned to exit her apartment and she shot up from her spot on the couch to try and stop him.

Jonathan quickly turned and pulled the taser from his back pocket and pressed it firmly into her side. Angela felt her body convulse and her muscles spasm before she fell to the ground and quickly drifted from consciousness.

**AN: I really hope you all enjoyed the little bit of Mad Hatter in this chapter. Hopefully we'll get to see a bit more of him in the future.**

** Also, as I mentioned in an earlier chapter, this story has a looong way to go. My plans for this fic are almost as elaborate as Jonathan's plans are for Gotham, so I really hope my readers are up for the adventure.**

** As always, reviews keep me happy and healthy and I appreciate every single one of them. So while you're at it, tell me all your lives, your ambitions, your **_**fears**_**. Just kidding, but please, let me know your thoughts on this chapter!**


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